


Monsters, Smoke and the One-Hour Train

by irlenolacroix



Category: Monsterkind (Webcomic)
Genre: Comfort, Eventual Romance, First Meetings, M/M, Multi, Slow Romance, Swearing, Therapy, im so sorry for this i just...love the idea of ben and eno so much, its gonna get GAY
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-21
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-04-27 09:19:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5042695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irlenolacroix/pseuds/irlenolacroix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I met him in my office. His fiancee had died. He needed to talk to somebody, and I, being a therapist, was a pretty damn good person to talk to.<br/>Talking led to more talking, which led to meetings, which led to so many other things that I honestly couldn't count them if I tried.<br/>I had no idea what the course of a single year could bring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Session One, September

He came into my office in September with a hand in one pocket, a pack of cigarettes in the other, and a deep-seated pain shining behind his eyes.  
  
“This Doctor Lacroix’s office?”  
  
His voice was deep and husky. It reminded me of the color of my oak desk. Very, very different from Kip’s voice, which turned from green to blue to purple all in one sentence. This man’s voice was steady, but I had learned over the years that voices seldom stayed that way.  
  
I came down the stairs. This must’ve been the guy Kip told me about. I tried to remember details, piece his case together in my head.  
  
“Ben Baker.”  
  
He nodded. “Doctor Lacroix.”  
  
“Please,” I said, reaching out for a handshake with a hint of a simper starting to cross my lips. “Call me Eno.”  
  
It was easier to see him once I got to the bottom of the stairwell. He was one of the more humanoid monsters I had seen, and I wondered for a moment if he was even a monster at all before seeing his horns. They were so dark in color that they almost blended into his thick brown hair, which itself was just a few shades darker than his skin. He was taller than me by an inch or two. Being six foot two and living in District B, it was difficult for me to find somebody that fit that description.  
  
“C’mon in.”  
  
He ambled after me, looking halfheartedly around the room, like he was trying to care and take notice but couldn’t bring himself to. I recognized that look. It was common in my patients, especially Kip. There was darkness in Ben's eyes, in his walk, in his aura. It made me feel a little…odd, distressed, even. Like I could feel the light that used to be there.  
  
“Kip told me about you. He said you were quiet.” I chuckled a little, seizing an opportunity. “Though I doubt you’re half as cold as he is.”  
  
Ben glanced at me, his eyebrows rising maybe a millimeter. “Hmmh.”  
  
I swallowed a little and let my eyes go from the floor back up to him, the teasing grin still light on my face. “Is he that—heh, that chilly to everybody? I know it takes him time to warm up to people.”  
  
He turned to look at me again before sitting down and looking up at me, the darkness of his bearing still dense. “I know you’re trying with your comedy.” A thick hand brushed his hair back. “But I’m here for therapy, Eno.”  
  
I blinked. What did Kip say had happened to him? For some reason I couldn’t pull my mind away from the present moment. I wracked through my brain, trying to remember something, a detail that might help, but all that came was blankness.  
  
I sat down in my swivel chair.  
  
“Right, right. Let’s get started.” I pushed my glasses up on my nose, leaning back against the back of the chair, moving closer to him, really only placing the clipboard on my lap to look semi-professional. Ben shifted in his seat. I moved a hand to push my hair out of my face before placing both arms behind my head. “What brings you here?”  
  
“Kip told me to come.” His bulk leaned back against the wall, sitting sideways on the couch that Kip usually lay on. “And I listened.”  
  
“Why did he tell you to come?”  
  
“Said I needed someone to talk to.” He didn’t make eye contact.  
  
I was used to dealing with the guarded. A lot of clients, human and monster, were like this in their first meeting, and within the hour they usually started bitching about whatever it is that was bothering them. I would crack a few jokes, write everything down, and that’s how our sessions would go. But Ben…he wasn’t angry. He wasn’t angry, and he wasn’t scared, not like Kip was. Kip’s fear seemed to be his entire life; his internal organs seemed to bleed of fear and anxiety. Ben wasn’t afraid. His shield came from sadness, and it took me aback. If he was trying to hide his depression, he certainly wasn’t trying hard.  
  
“I feel I fit that description, bel homme.” I let a little smirk play on my face before glancing back up at his face. He didn’t seem amused by the compliment. “Don’t speak French?”  
  
“Not a word.”  
  
I shrugged. “Bien dommage.” I admittedly only knew what I learned in high school, but I could hold a basic conversation. “Would you like to talk about what’s been happening to you?” I asked, slipping back into professionalism.  
  
“Been happening?” A mirthless laugh came from Ben’s lips. “Already happened.”  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence. I took his silence as a no.  
  
“Well, we can always chat about something else, if you’d like—”  
  
“I came here for therapy.” Ben’s dark eyes moved back up to meet mine. “Guess I’d better talk about it if I’m gonna get that, ah?”  
  
I had to just look at him for a while. I had never met somebody like this before. Usually it took me around three meetings for someone to start actually talking to me and telling me the root of their sadness, their anger, their terror. I was a little off-putting; apparently it wasn’t considered “normal” to flirt with your clients, especially the monsters. But Ben seemed so willing to open up so quickly, and while it was unusual I wasn’t about to fight him on it.  
  
“Go ahead.” I tipped my head to the side, my bangs falling slightly out of place. Ben let out a short breath of what may have been a laugh before heaving a great sigh, leaning back against the wall.  
  
“Happened a while back.”  
  
I blinked, nipping lightly at my lower lip. “It’s more comfortable if you lay back on the couch.”  
  
“I know.” Ben didn’t change his position. He stared at the opposite wall of the room for a few long seconds before letting out another little sigh. “My fiancée.”  
  
He didn’t say anything else, so I gently urged him on. “What about them?”  
  
Ben was quiet for a few more long moments. I moved to ask again before he spoke.  
  
“She died.” His voice was husky. “She was killed.”  
  
The automatic pun sank in my throat. Details slowly flowed back into my head. So that’s what Kip had meant when he said she was gone.  
  
Ben was silent and his gaze stayed on the floor. A muscle in his cheek twitched. His facial expression was blank, but tightly pressed lips betrayed his misery.  
  
“I’m sorry,” I said softly.  
  
“Don’t be.” He sounded like he was forcing his voice out.  
  
There was a long silence after that. I didn’t know what to say. Ben’s throat seemed to be clogged up with sadness, so that words wouldn’t have been able to get through. As for me, I could only look at him. Should I…comfort him, somehow? It felt too early, we had known each other for a grand total of twenty minutes. Would he want me to get closer?  
  
“Sorry. I, uh…I get like this. Kip’s probably told you…” He leaned against the wall, amber eyes moving to focus on the ceiling.  
  
“It’s okay…I know that must have been traumatic.” I look at the blank clipboard before standing up, leaving it on the chair, and taking a cautious step over to the other man. I sat beside him on the couch and felt my arm moving to lightly place itself on his shoulders. He tightened beneath me, but other than that gave no acknowledgement of my touch.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
We stayed like that until I began to feel a feeling of silent heat swallowing me from the inside. I pulled my arm back into my lap.  
  
Ben let out a slow breath. “Well, uh. That’s the root of my problems.” He tried to get a gruff laugh out, but it sounded more like the grunt of a half-drunk man who hadn’t seen light in days being forced to open a window. “What do we do now?”  
  
It took me a moment to remember why he was here. “Oh—yes. You’ve already done plenty…would you like to vent to me? I, um…” I looked over to my clipboard. “I’m sure I have some exercises for dealing with grief…”  
  
“I just wanna feel better without forgetting about her.” He looked over at me for the first time in quite a while. “But I don’t know how, and I don’t think I can. Kip said you were good. I want to know what to do with myself.”  
  
The eye contact had an ambiguous intensity to it—opia, I remembered, was the word for the sensation. We looked at each other for maybe ten seconds. I had to look away first, my stomach was beginning to sink and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know why.  
  
“It’ll take time.” I said it quietly and placed a hand on his leg, ignoring the further dipping of my stomach. “But you will get through this.” I almost said ‘Kip did’ before remembering that he didn’t want anybody to know about that and stopping myself.  
  
Ben’s leg tensed beneath me. I withdrew my hand.  
  
“I know.” His gaze was directed towards the wall and he blew a resigned sigh against the stiff air around us. “I know.”  
  
I didn’t know what to say again. Maybe that was best, since any word I would have said wouldn’t have been the right one.  
  
He hesitated before heaving himself up with a little breath once he had situated his body on his feet. “I gotta get back.” He looked over at me. “How much do I pay you?”  
  
I didn’t realize he had spoken for a few seconds. “Oh, um…this one’s free. First one always is.” The lie came out almost as easily as a bad joke.  
  
His eyebrows raised a little, but he didn’t question me. “Got it.”  
  
I stood up and smiled a little. “Same time next week?”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
I was about to lead him to the door when I became overtaken by the urge to give him my phone number. Wait, shit, really, Eno? You just met the guy, he knows where you are, he probably won’t need you within the week…  
  
I grabbed a sheet of paper, scribbled down my cell number, and handed it to him. “In case you need me.” The words were shier than I had expected, and to counteract it I added a little, “I’m sure you’ll find my voice has monstrous relaxation qualities in times of crisis,” with a smirk added onto it.  
  
A small grunt that may have been a groan came from Ben’s chest. “I’ll make sure to call if I need it.”  
  
A little smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t seen him smile until then.  
  
Ben looked back up from the paper, his forehead wrinkled a bit, and reached out to shake my hand. “Until next week.”  
  
Shaking his hand was like holding a warm kitten, minus fur, plus callouses and a firm grip.  
  
“Until next week,” I reiterated.  
  
He let go of my hand, turned to the door, and only halfway looked back when he left.


	2. Session Two, September, One Week Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kip's getting things back from the move. I'm getting ready for an appointment--two appointments, actually. He's got something to say about it.

"Eno."

Somebody was saying my name.

“Eno.”

I was vaguely aware of the two syllables being repeated.

“Eno.”

I had never known how distracting mindless doodles could be…

“ENO!”

I was shaken out of my thoughts by a pair of very cold hands.

I blinked a few times and looked up. “Hello, Kip.”

The blue boy was not amused. “You have an appointment in ten minutes and you’re still not dressed. You’re in jorts and an old polo—that is not professional, Eno, good god…You’ve drawn-” He looked at my clipboard. “You’ve drawn flowers and cats all over your notes-”

“That one’s name is Frosty.” I pointed with a smirk. “He’s named after you.”

Kip’s eyes pierced into me like icicle daggers. I didn’t even bother holding back my laughter.

“I didn’t come here to get turned into a damn pun!” He groaned and stood straight, stretching a little, letting out a few deep coughs. “I’ve gotta get back.”

“Really? So soon?” I frowned and stood, putting the clipboard on my desk. “C’mon, stay a bit.” 

“You have an appointment.”

“You can go chill”-I snickered a little-“in your old room upstairs until I’m done. I’m sure there’s stuff up there you haven’t gotten yet. I thought that was why you came, unless you just wanted to see me…”

He rolled his eyes. “Eno, I have things to do…”

“What things? You’re not working today.” I playfully sidled up to him and swung an arm around him. “You got a date, Kipper?”

“What?” Kip growled and flinched away, shoving me. “No!!!”

“Is it the human? Wallace, is that his name? I bet it’s him.”

“Eno-”

I chortled with a hand over my mouth. “It is!”

“Eno!!!” He covered his face. “No! How often do I have to tell you-”

“Oh hush, honey,” I purred, “you can trust me.”

“Can I?” he mumbled in indignation, stuffing his hands in the pockets of pants that were just a slight bit small around the hips.

I chuckled a little and went upstairs to change. He followed me up, pausing at the top of the steps. “It’s amazing how much stuff I’ve still got here.”

I nodded. “Can’t move everything at once.”

“Still.” He sighed. “It’s been three years.”

Three years. It felt longer. The apartment was emptier without him and a lot quieter. Hotter, too, though that was to be expected when an ice monster’s moved out. “I’ve still got your old bed and some of your old writing.” I let out a quiet giggle. “You were fifteen, it was back in the old place you—well, we lived in before B opened up to monsters…”

“I thought we agreed to forget about that forever.” Kip took off his jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt, looking up at me with furious blue eyes.

“It’s cute! Little Kipster was the sweetest,” I crooned, going back into my room. “I’ve got your old diaries, too…”

“Please, for the love of God, shut the hell up and burn those.” Kip groaned as he went back into his old room, closing the door once he had gotten his shirt off, loosening his chest binder as the door closed.

“I like them!”

“They’re embarrassing!” he called from the other room between a few deep coughs. “Let that shit burn!”

“Hush,” I said, pushing through turtlenecks and the occasional red dress in my closet, “they’re cute. Besides, you’ll want them when you’re older. I’ve still got mine.”

“Can’t imagine what yours are like,” he shouted back. “Probably gay and punny.”

“Precisely.” I found the purple turtleneck I liked and took off my polo, pulling the sweater over my head. “Yours are pretty gay, too, you had a whole gay crisis…”

“It was a TRANS crisis,” he corrected me as I heard the door to his old room opening, “plus the implications of gayness that came with me being male.”

“Either way. It was gay.” I shrugged, quickly changing pants before opening my own door and coming out of my room. Kip stood in the hall, redressed, looking less disgruntled and uncomfortable than before. “I’m dressed,” I said. “Happy?”

“Yes,” he mumbled, frowning still, as was his usual expression when he wasn’t overjoyed. His eyes went to my shoes before running up my body and landing on my eyes. “You look nice.”

“I try.”

“No, like…nice nice. Like you’re actually trying.” He paused for a moment with a frown. “What is it?”

“What is what?”

“Why are you wearing the purple turtleneck you only wear when there’s a nice-looking guy coming over or when you want to”-he groaned and rolled his eyes-“as you say, ‘treat yo’ self’?”

“There’s nothing ‘nice’ about this sweater.” My face was heating up and I didn’t know why. “It’s cozy.”

“Cozy,” he repeated, staring up at me. “You haven’t worn that in months.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t live here anymore.”

“Okay then; when was the last time you wore it?”

“Like…I don’t know!” I shrugged and crossed my arms. “Maybe back in May?”

“Good god…” he muttered as he placed a hand over his face. “Good fucking god.”

“What?”

“What?!” Kip looked up at me with a smirk barely hidden by irritation. “Why the hell are you wearing that shirt? Who’s your appointment?”

“The appointment that’s in”-I checked my watch-“five minutes is just that girl I’ve told you about once or twice. Shana? The one with good hair?”

Kip stared at me for a few long seconds. “The one in five minutes,” he repeated.

“Yes.”

His weight shifted to one leg. “So you’re implying that there’s another later.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “Well, yeah. I have a half-hour between Shana’s and another one.”

“Who’s the other one?” His arms crossed as he looked at me. I felt like his eyes could see into my soul. I shivered a little.

“It’s just—you know,” I said. “That guy from your building. Ben.”

Kip was completely silent for a few long seconds. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from fidgeting. I wasn’t getting worked up over it or anything—Ben was an interesting guy. He intrigued me. I liked sessions with him. It was Kip, I said to myself, Kip’s inquisition that was making me want to squirm with embarrassment.

“I see,” was all he said.

I held back a laugh.

“What?”

“I see.” I smirked a little. “Icy.”

“Oh my GOD, ENO!” was the last thing I heard before I ran, laughing, down the stairs at the knock on the door, tripping only a few times on my way down.


	3. Flashback, Years Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years ago, it had happened.  
> To him and to me.  
> And, as I would later learn, to another.

_It was 5:16._

_It was one of those events where you remembered exactly what time it was, what you were doing. What you were wearing. What you had eaten that day. The precise thoughts in your head just before it had happened. During. After. Every gesture you made. Everything you saw, heard, smelled, felt, tasted. One of those photographic snippets of time that come so rarely and often only in the face of tragedy._

_5:16._

_There was a knock._

_I had stood up. My head turned to the door. 5:16. I didn’t have any appointments slated for 5:16. Nothing that I should be doing. Nobody that had asked to come over._

_I was wearing a white turtleneck. Khakis. My hair was a little shorter back then._

_I approached the door._

_5:17._

_He was standing outside and ice was staining his face._

_They’re all dead, he repeated over and over to me, all of them, they’re dead Eno, and I know you wanted to come but I’m so glad you didn’t because I don’t want you to die too, they’re dead, Eno…_

_My heart sank to my stomach when I realized what he meant._

_Oh, my God._

_I leaned down to hug him. His face froze my chest._

_You can stay with me, I murmured._

_There was silence before he whispered, Could I?_

_Of course._

_I said his birth name then. I didn’t yet know he was Kip. I didn’t yet know he was a boy. That would come in time._

_I led him inside. He’s holding my hand and sniffling and his cheeks are frozen and his tears have frozen to his lower eyelids._

_I almost asked if he wanted to talk about it._

_The look on his face told me not to ask._

_Instead I murmured, Do you want some tea? Lemon ginger flavor._

_He was silent as he nodded._

_And then we can just sit together, I said._

_He gave another soft nod._

_5:23._

_I made the tea while crying in silence._


End file.
